Vicky's Box

He won't ride in cars anymore
It reminds him of blow jobs that he's a queer
And his hair stuck to the roof over the wheel
Like a pigeon on a tire goes aroundAnd circles over circles and he's a queer
And his hair on the roof
Like a pigeon goes aroundSays he's a man and his eyes
And his hair and his eyes
Say he's a manHe won't ride anymore
He won't ride anymore
He won't ride anymoreHome is a rage feels like a cage
Home is what you read
How you breathe,
Home is how you liveI feel boxed in
I feel boxed in
I feel boxed in
Think I'll be all rightHome is where the heart lies
The heart lies, the heart lies
Welcome home, welcome home
Welcome home, welcome home
Welcome homeIt's under the strangle of winter
I only love pieces of things that I hate
Like this box, this piece of roof
I can't grasp, can't see trueA piece of past
Days like today
Like a decade ago
Painful to remember like todayI've been here another year, another day
Ocean waving flies and a child
Girl you complain
To kiss the rotten broken kneeYou may be dreaming
You may be bleeding
You may be in this boxA kitchen is a place where you prepare
And clean up
Clean up
Clean up
Clean up